


Kitchen Tiles

by ahlohomora



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Broken Mugs, I'm Sorry, M/M, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:45:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahlohomora/pseuds/ahlohomora
Summary: He regrets not realizing sooner, he regrets not listening to his heart more closely, he regrets not picking up on a single one of the countless little but painstakingly clear signs, regrets not being honest with himself until now. But it’s of no use, because it is what it is, and all they have now is a few weeks. After all the months and years, now all they have is weeks.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written angst in y e a r s wow
> 
> (i'm sorry i actually barely know anything about how leukemia works and i wasn't gonna include the illness at all bc that's not really what the fic is -about- but yeah apologies if i messed it up pls know i do not mean to be insensitive in any way) 
> 
> disclaimer: this is fiction. i do not own dan or phil or youtube... but i do own a lot of cool mugs

_”Hi guys. I’m making this video as a reply, or follow up, to the video Dan posted two nights ago. First of all, Dan and his family wants to say a massive thank you for all the love and support. It’s not been easy for anyone, but everyone’s coping as well as they can. Everyone, except for me, I guess. This- this is going to be near impossible for me to talk about, but I felt I needed to publicly address it, and I couldn’t write it in a tweet, or make a tumblr post, so… here I am. This video is about… about my best friend, who were diagnosed with acute leukemia a little over two months ago. And he’s not going to… guys, he’s not going to m-make it.”_

* * *

 

In moments like these, when they’re curled up on the sofa in their pjs, trying to find something to watch on Crunchyroll, he can pretend everything’s normal and fine… for fifteen minutes or so. Still, at least something. 

”How are you feeling?” Phil whispers, and Dan is torn between not so accidentally pushing Phil off the sofa, and scooting closer to rest his head on his friend’s shoulder. 

”You last asked me that half an hour ago”, Dan reminds him, forcing himself to be patient. ”The answer is still _fine_.” He fiddles with his phone, opens apps at random and closing them just as quickly. 

He _knows_ the nurses keep telling him to be honest and not lie about how he’s doing, how it is important that he lets his closest ones know how he’s feeling, but they have no idea, have they, Dan thinks bitterly. They have no idea how hard it is to admit to your best friend that he fainted twice when alone in the house earlier today, how he’s constantly dizzy, and how even concentrating on Youtube videos is getting difficult because he can’t make his brain _focus_. 

”Okay”, Phil replies. ”Just making sure.”

Dan doesn’t _want_ to lie. And he doesn’t want Phil to shut down about how he’s coping with all of this either. But speaking is hard. 

”I think I’ll make the video tomorrow”, he mumbles. ”Did… d’you wanna be in it?” 

He glances up at his best friend, who stares blankly at the laptop in front of him. 

”If you want me to.”  
”You don’t have to.”

”I only offered if you wanted, I dunno, support or something.”

”I think I can do it on my own. I think. You… Are you gonna make a video or something?”

Phil swallows, again. 

”Yeah. Yeah, of course I am.”

 

——

 

They send Youtube into a state of shock that lasts for weeks. That’s honestly longer than Dan thought, bad news usually don’t last very long on the internet, but their fans are absolutely devastated. Some are, of course, accusing him of pranking them. If only, he thinks. If only it was just a cruel prank. 

 

He’s uploaded a video where he explains briefly what’s been going on lately: why they cancelled the last two internet takeover shows, why he hasn’t been on Younow for two months, why their gaming channel hasn’t been updated since last year and why Phil acted so strange in his last video. (To be fair, Phil _was_ doing a terrible job of acting normal.)

People’s speculations has been ranging from them going through a breakup to one of them accidentally knocking up a girl, which Dan mentions in the video with a smile ghosting on his lips, before he proceeds to talk about how acute leukemia works and how it’s affecting his body and how it’s slowly killing him. And how that is okay. Well, of course it’s not _okay,_ but somehow all those hours and hours of contemplating life and death lying face down in the hallway and on his bedroom floor, somehow they have made him reach the conclusion that death _is_ inevitable and some things just _are_. Things happen, not necessarily for a reason, but they happen and all he can do is deal with them. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. And that’s okay. Don’t get him wrong, he’s scared. He’s experiencing what fear is, for the first time in his life, true fear that haunts your every waking hour and cast shadows over your every thought… but he’s coming to terms with it.

 

He doesn’t mention Phil in his video, but of course that’s what every single person in the comment section brings up: _how is Phil coping?_

Dan doesn’t wanna speak for Phil. Because frankly, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to imagine what it’d be like had their roles been reversed. He thinks about all the fanfics their fans wrote about Phil being the one dying — he’s read a few and he remembers snorting at fanfic-Dan’s reaction to that tragic loss. The pain the authors described couldn’t possibly compare to the one he’d actually feel if Phil was torn away from him. That’s why he’d do anything to be alone in the universe right now, on one level he even wishes he’d never met Phil, because that would mean not causing anyone any pain and especially not him. Phil, the most brilliant guy on Earth, the _only_ one to understand him through and through and generally the best person ever, he doesn’t deserve any of this. If the universe is unfair to him, Dan thinks sadly, then it’s being fucking brutal to Phil. He says as much, when they have dinner in front of the telly — well, Phil is having dinner, Dan hasn’t touched his soup. He’s already lost more weight than he’s comfortable with, but he just hasn’t got any appetite at all. He should eat some anyway, because literally any second now Phil is gonna start nagging on him, but it feels like his stomach can’t take it and he doesn’t want to throw up.

Phil makes a sad noise, and reaches out to grab Dan’s arm, looking him in the eyes. 

”I know it’s unfair. It’s the unfairest. But meeting you in the first place, that was the luckiest thing to ever happen to me. It was the best thing.” He blushes a little, and Dan feels weird, feels like giggling. Ugh, they never really talk about their feelings - not the real ones, the ones that matter. It feels way too intimate and strange and it makes Dan incredibly nervous. 

”Same to you”, he mumbles, huffing out a laugh. ”Sorry, I can’t do sappy right now. I can’t take you seriously when you’re looking like that.”

Phil smiles, a real smile, the first one in weeks. 

God, he looks tired. 

He looks as tired as Dan feels, and Dan is tired to his fucking bones. 

”What do I look like?”

”A tired pigeon”. And they laugh, because it’s stupid, and they’re both exhausted - physically and mentally - and Phil looks at Dan with so much warmth in his eyes that it almost makes Dan embarrassed and self-aware, like he did when he was 18, when every look from Phil was like that; intense and raw and new. 

”Don’t worry”, he adds with a soft smile. ”You’re still the most important tired pigeon in my life.” It feels good to say, not awkward like he thought. Huh.

”So if the tired pigeon asked a favor of you, would you do it?” 

”Uh, depends?”

”Please. Eat something. For me?”

He rolls his eyes, but obeys. For Phil, he’d do almost anything. 

 

* * *

 

 

_”Er… Yeah. I’ve known him for six years now. And it’s been the best six years of my life. He’s really important to me. The most important. And I don’t think I’ll be able to go on doing this right now, who knows if I’ll feel different in the future, but right now I don’t think there’ll be any more Phil vlogs for a while. Dan doesn’t want me to quit, he keeps telling me, but… I just know I won’t be able to. I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think I’d actually cry while filming this, wow. Sorry. Okay. Alright. This is a goodbye, for now. I appreciate all the love you guys has given Dan and I, you’ve been incredible, and again I want to thank you all for supporting Dan and his family in this time. The universe is unfair and Dan was the last person on Earth to deserve this, h-he was supposed to grow old and live happily ever after, with a bunch of kids and Shiba Inus but it is what it is now, there’s no cure, and even though I want to hate the universe for hurting him and me and everyone who cares about him, it’s pointless. All we can do is stay strong, and give all our love to Dan, and pray he stays strong too. I’m praying for a miracle. Okay. I think it’s about time I e-end this, while I’m still able to speak… I love you guys, and Dan — you still make me so happy and I still love you so much.”_

 

* * *

 

”Dan? Are you okay?” His mother is visiting. She hasn’t stopped crying since she stepped into their apartment, and Dan doesn't know how to handle it. She’s always been hiding her emotions behind a strict and businesslike façade: that’s the woman Dan knows. Until roughly two months ago, she was the least sentimental person Dan had ever met. And now she keeps hugging him, telling him how loved he is, how proud of him she is, how he’s the person she wished she could be. On top of that is the constant guilt in her eyes and he loves his mum, of course he does, but he doesn’t know how to respond to any of it. At times she makes him cry too, but most of the time he just rubs her shoulders weakly and says _I love you too, ssh, I’m still here._

”I’m fine”, Dan shrugs. It’s been an okay day. He’s only fainted once, and luckily Phil were right next to him, ready to catch him. Because constantly falling to the floor hurts, okay? He’s got more bruises than he can count because of i.

His mum starts sobbing again and pulls him into an embrace. 

”Mum, seriously”, he sighs. ”I am fine. Go make yourself a cup of tea, I’ll be just fine over here. I think I’m going to call Phil real quick, okay?” 

 

His mum’s only asked one time if he and Phil were dating, one day back in 2009, because she believed he acted like he was in love. 

 

Dan hadn’t known.

 

She isn’t asking now, even though she’s clearly noticed how the two of them are closer than ever. How Phil’s given up his life to be able to be there for Dan. Dan fought him on it, refused to be the reason Phil lost what little normalcy was left of his life, but Phil is also the most stubborn person Dan’s ever met. Besides, when he’d asked what Dan would’ve done if the roles were reversed, he hadn’t felt like fighting anymore and they’d both cried.

It had been one of the worst nights of his life, crying helplessly into his pillow in the dark for hours afterwards because he was _dying_ and he was killing everyone around him too and it was his fault and he did not _want_ to think about John Green’s metaphors and grenades but that’s the only thought that ran through his head; _his_ broken, fucked-up body was the reason everything around him would be shattered. The community Phil and he had built together — the phandom —, the Youtube community who had to deal with another vlogger dying too young, his friends and family of course… his Phil. Phil’s personal life, Youtube career, radio presenter career… everything. 

Phil, who had already lost a best friend to death before. Phil, who was the kindest, gentlest soul and who is the reason Dan bothers to even get up and get dressed these days. Everything in Dan’s life truly is pointless now, since it’ll be gone in a few short months, but _Phil_ isn’t. 

 

He feels selfish. He can’t begin to describe how selfish he feels for continuing to cling to Phil when he knows it’s only gonna make letting go even harder. 

 

But it’s Phil and not Dan who gives in and knocks on the bedroom door that night, teary eyed and devastated, asking with pleading eyes if he can sleep next to his best friend tonight. It’s Phil who holds on to Dan until their breathing evens out and they finally fall asleep, as the sun starts to rise over London. 

 

Now his mother looks at him like she’s afraid he’s gonna collapse if she so much as takes her eyes off him, eyes smudged with mascara and trembling hands. He smiles at her, asking her to make a cup for him too. She nods once, more to herself than to him, and with a final watery smile she leaves the living room. Look, he knows he shouldn’t be so hard on her, but it’s with a sigh of relief he unlocks his phone and taps on Phil’s name in the speed dial list.

 

He picks up immediately. 

”Dan? You okay?” 

”Yes, Philly, calm down, I just wanna chat.”

”Sorry, I— sorry. Are you… how’s your afternoon been?”

Dan smiles a little, walking over to stand by the windows, looking out at the street.

”Oh I was doing just fine… until mum arrived.” He speaks the last part quietly but keeps the tone light.

”Is it bad?”

”I mean, quite.”

”Should I come home?”

”No, God no. Just wanted to see what’s up.”

He can hear exited chatter in the background, cursing himself for interrupting what was supposed to be Phil’s ”day off”. Just going out for a couple of drinks with the Youtube colleagues, like they do every other month or so. Phil hadn’t even wanted to go at first but Dan persuaded him, because it had to be good for him to see his other friends without Dan there… right?

”Well, we’re in a pub now but we’re still waiting for a few people, no one’s sure who were supposed to show up and not… oh, and apparently Tanya and Jim have some exciting news to share with the world.”

Dan’s hand flies up to cover his mouth.

” _No?_ ”, he says breathlessly. ”For real?” 

He can hear the smile in Phil’s voice. 

”Yes.”

He looks out over the rooftops, out over the infinitely big city that’s bathing in evening sun. One life ends, another one begins. The circle of life. The metaphors overwhelm his tired, foggy mind. 

”I’m so happy for them”, he whispers. ”Give them my love. Give all of them my love.”

”I will”, Phil replies. Clearing his throat. ”We miss you.”

_Well. I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to that._

”Miss you too. Promise I’ll try to show up next time. If, er. I can.”

 _If I’m still around._ He should be, but nothings’ certain anymore.

”Dan, I… I don’t know what I was thinking, I should be home with you, I—”

”No, no, no, please, for me. Just have some fun. Take your mind off things, yeah?”

Silence.

”You know I can’t just _stop_ thinking about you.”

His eyes start to tear up. He’s so tired, his heart is hurting. 

”I’m sorry for calling”, he whispers. ”Give it an hour, at least. If it’s still awful then you can leave.” 

”Okay.”

Just like that. No objections. 

”See ya later, love you.” He hangs up before Phil has a chance to reply. 

When he turns around, his mother is stood there with two mugs of tea in her hands. A yellow Winnie the Pooh-one given to him by a fan, and one with the Game of Thrones-logo on it. She comes over, handles him the Pooh one and he wipes his eyes furiously. 

She reaches up to stroke his cheek.

”We will take care of him”, she says, pain in her voice. ”We promise. All of us. We will.”

He manages to coax out a ”thanks”, taking a sip of the scolding tea, burning his tongue. It hurts. 

”Jim and Tanya are having a baby”, he mumbles. ”Isn’t that great?”

He knows his mum’s never met them, but she smiles anyway, cradling her mug against her chest. 

”That’s wonderful, Dan.”

 _I’ll never have a child,_ Dan thinks. _All this time of fantasizing about being a parent, about building a home, caring for a newborn and loving them unconditionally. I’ll never have that._

 

——

 

The days turn into weeks, no matter how hard he tries to fight it. He can’t stop time now can he. Eating gets harder, he’s only getting thinner, and Phil cries himself to sleep next to Dan, and when Dan blacks out in the bathroom without waking up Phil rides with him in the ambulance to the hospital, holding his hand the entire time.

He looks completely wrecked when Dan comes to, eyes puffy and red and hair a complete disaster. 

”Sort your hair our”, Dan mutters. 

Phil doesn’t. Instead he leans in to kiss him. 

 

——

 

He regrets not realizing sooner, he regrets not listening to his heart more closely, he regrets not picking up on a single one of the countless little but painstakingly clear signs, regrets not being honest with himself until now. But it’s of no use, because it is what it is, and all they have now is a few weeks. After all the months and years, now all they have is weeks. 

 

 _Tragic_ is the world that comes to mind every time he shyly holds Phil’s hand or strokes his hair, every time their lips connect so sweet and innocently it makes him want to fucking cry, every time Phil updates his twitter with heartbreaking song lyrics. The song lyrics remind Dan of old times, when flirting shamelessly was a game and neither of them could resist to play it. A tragic love story of two blind idiots. Take that, John Green.

 

 _Phan is real and Dan’s got an incurable disease._ It sounds like the caption of one of those overly dramatic Phan video edits, in black and white and with cursive font to go along with the harrowing song lyrics. When real life imitates art, truly.

 

His family visits every day in the hospital, and while Dan thought that finding out that the process has sped up and he’s got much less time than before would have caused some sort of panic among his family and Phil, it hasn’t. Phil tells him how much he loves him, every day he visits, soothing him with calm and gentle words because somehow Phil just knows that Dan is _finally_ freaking out. He’s panicking because he is about to die, and there’s still so much he hasn’t said or done and he was supposed to do so much more for so many more and now he’s just going to fucking disappear into the void of nothingness he spent too much of his alive time dwelling on. Why did he waste so much time thinking about death, again? There were so much other things he could’ve done, like kissing Phil and spending time with his nana and teaching his little brother how video editing works. 

 

”I want you to have my stuff”, he says one morning, interrupting Phil’s story about the golden retriever puppy he saw on the way there. 

”What?” 

”I want you to have my games, my PC — but please, _please_ Phil, delete the internet history first, I swear to God— and, like, all my miscellaneous crap. Take it. But I want you to bury my laptop, preferably with me in my coffin.”

Phil actually half-chuckles at that. 

”I can’t believe you. I don’t think that’s allowed, actually.”

Dan huffs.

”It should. I don’t want anyone but me to touch it ever, not even you. No offense.”

”None taken”, Phil says, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, eyes filled to the brim with fondness. ”I’ll get rid of it, I promise.”  
”Thank you.”

”I’m so in love with you”, Phil says, shaking his head. ”You have no idea.”

Dan just gives him a _look_. 

”I think I do.”

 

——

 

February turns into March, and Dan passes away in his sleep. 

 

——

 

The thing is that when you’ve built a life together with someone and that someone is ripped away from you, it is never going to be the same again and there’s no point in even trying or pretending. Phil can’t stay in the apartment, he can’t keep Dan’s Haru body pillow or his collection of CD’s, he can’t even bring himself to turn off the amber lamp in his bedroom. It stays lit, wasting electricity, casting a golden shimmer over the room Dan slept and filmed and paced and matured in. 

 

He’s in the apartment with Martyn, they’re supposed to start packing. Phil’s moving back to Manchester for a while, needing to get away from the busyness but also to be with his family. Mr and mrs Howell have kept in close touch with him, immediately offering to clear out Dan’s half of the apartment and Phil struggles to explain that their home wasn’t half Dan’s and half Phil’s, it was just all _theirs_. They ask him if he wants the furniture — the sofa, the dining chairs all in different colors, the sofa bed in the office that Phil broke on camera once— but he declines. They can take all of it, for all he cares. 

”You okay?” Martyn asks, concern written all over his face. He’s currently packing away all the books and gadgets that lines the shelves in the living room, while Phil stares blankly out the window. Thinking about the first time they stepped inside this room, how they both seemed to be able to picture a future here. The beginning of something new. 

Wasn’t ever supposed to be the end. 

”No”, he mumbles. He feels empty, so empty. He turns around and leaves, walks into the kitchen. They’ve already filled one cardboard box with kitchen utensils, and it’s taking up most of the space in the small room, but the kettle is still there and plugged in so Phil fills it with water and turns it on, absentmindedly. 

He’s not actually in the mood for coffee, but finds the buzzing noise from the kettle soothing. _One thing at the time_ , he thinks as he opens the cupboard to take down the instant coffee, putting the jar on the counter. _Sugar._ There. _Mug._

He opens the next cupboard, and reaches for a mug — and freezes. 

 

 _”You know, I like this one actually, I don’t care what you say.”_ Hello Kitty mug. 

 _”Phil, you did not buy that ironically, oh my God.”_ One Direction mug.

 _”Merry Christmas, loser.”_ Sonic the hedgehog mug.

 _”I saw this and thought of you, or whatever.”_ Buffy mug. 

 _”A fan gave me this, isn’t it cute?”_ ’Best buds Dan Howell & Phil Lester’ mug. 

 

He grabs the One Direction mug, and lets it fall out of his hand. It doesn’t shatter, just makes a really loud clinking noise. Phil frowns, and grabs the Hello Kitty mug, the running joke, and hurls it into the wall until it smashes with a satisfying sound, pieces of white and pink porcelain shattered all over the kitchen tiles. He smashes the Sonic mug, too. He smashes every single mug that Dan’s held, or loved, or made him hot chocolate in. He smashes every last one of them until their kitchen is a disaster, and he isn’t feeling any better. He just wants to cry. 

 

—— 

 

The funeral is awful. People keep coming up to him, giving their condolences, and Phil can’t bring himself to even thank them. He wants nothing more than to just drop dead right then and there so they can be buried together, the way it was fucking supposed to be. Because he cannot live without Dan. 

 

——

 

After a month, his mum forces him to go see a therapist. After three months, Phil still wakes up from nightmares in the middle of the night. After six months, he logs onto twitter for the first time since Dan died, writing a single tweet before logging off again. 

 

——

 

People take it as a sign to start contacting him again, and reluctantly starts to reply. No, he’s not okay. Yeah, it’s tragic. No, there’s nothing they can do for him, but thank you anyway. He digs out his digital vlogging camera from one of the sport bag of stuff he still hasn’t bothered to unpack, realizes it’s out of battery and rummages through the cupboard in the kitchen for twenty minutes looking for spare batteries laying around. Once he’s found a pair, he logs into his AmazingPhil Youtube account. He gets a little taken aback by the ridiculous amount of notifications, unwatched videos in his subscription box and private messages. He would’ve thought it’d all die down pretty soon after… well, _after_. But the most recent comments and messages are just minutes old and they keep coming in, still, half a year later. It makes something stir within Phil. There are still people there supporting him, every hour of every day, and it blows his mind just a little. 

 

The latest video of his has reached over 20 million views. 

 

People had told him it’d gone viral, and were talked about all over the Youtube community and all over internet when he first uploaded it, but it’s a whole other thing seeing it black on white on his channel page. He’s feeling incredibly nervous all of a sudden. Shy, almost. The video he’s about to film… he doesn’t want it to be him and 20 million strangers. He wants it to be him, his boyfriend, and the audience they interacted with on a weekly if not daily basis for half a decade — with whom they built a relationship made out of banter, laughs and a shared love for internet culture and sharpie drawn cat whiskers. He just wants to make one more video for them, just to get some sort of closure. Plus, it is November after all… symbolism, and all that. Dan would’ve liked it. 

 

He places the camera carefully on the desk in the guest room that’s pretty much become his room. He knows he should start looking for a place of his own, and he believes he will. He’s just not sure _where_. Maybe Manchester isn’t such a good idea after all, maybe he should just go somewhere new and really get a fresh start. On the other hand, he _likes_ Manchester _,_ even more so now than before. It’s familiar, and with familiarity comes comfort. He’s not gonna lie, he’s toyed with the thought of moving to Brighton. That way he’d be near several of his friends, as well as being close to the sea which undoubtedly would be pretty cool. And, it’s a city he hasn’t lost Dan in. 

 

He did write a few bullet points of what to say, but now that he’s sat here he can’t bring himself to use them. This isn’t an ordinary video, shouldn’t be scripted at all really. So he does what he did the first time he ever filmed a video blog — he just presses ”record” and starts talking.

 

* * *

 

_”Hey, guys. I had this whole… plan, of what I was going to say, and the things I wanted you to know, but it looks like I’ll just have to speak to you like this instead. No script._

_I’m not coming back to this channel. Who knows what’ll happen in five, ten, twenty years with this website, maybe I’ll return in some shape or form, but AmazingPhil ends here. I’ll keep the channel up, of course, and… and Dan’s too. Of course. I just wanted to thank you for all your support, for being so great and giving us everything we could’ve ever wanted. It has meant everything to both of us._

_I miss him all the time. He was the love of my life… friendship wise, and… romantically. And I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing him. I hope he’s found peace, wherever he is… I’d like to think it’s somewhere calm and sunny. God, I — sorry, this is hard… but I need you to know that he made me happier than I ever thought I could be and without him I just… can’t. Goodbye, Internet.”_

* * *

 

He zones out, stares blankly at a point at the wall behind the camera, lost in thoughts. A couple of tears has made their way down his cheeks, tickling his chin. He wipes them away, and looks straight into the camera lens again. He imagines Dan’s there on the other side of the screen, watching the footage… He wants to apologize for breaking their precious collection of mugs, vividly remembering the mess he made. And then he remembers one Sunday morning, years and years ago, when nightmares had woken him up at 4:30 in the morning and he’d found himself in the kitchen, watching as the sun began to rise. He’d gone to wake Dan up, made them both a cup of tea and they’d been standing there, watching through the small kitchen window as the dawn woke London up and Dan had been sleepy and soft, gangly and long haired all at once, subconsciously leaning into Phil’s side as they stood in silence and that’s when he knew that his heart would never love anyone else the way it loved this boy… and he thinks, with more tears hopelessly streaming down his face, that he’d do anything to just have another sunrise with him. 

**Author's Note:**

> i am truly sorry
> 
> (special thanks to pals jamie and ellinor you're both brilliant and i hope u can forgive me 1 day after u have fought and defeated me)


End file.
